


Unanswered

by Entropyrose



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: M/M, Punisher Season 1 spoilers, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 17:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13575786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entropyrose/pseuds/Entropyrose
Summary: Matt lets out another indignant huff, tossing his head to the far side of the room. Whatever he’s got, it’s probably pretty good, because his shoulders are squared, jaw clenched like a man about to deal first blood. Matt’s most confident when he thinks he’s on some kind of moral high ground, which of course around Frank is pretty much always. “Lewis,” Matt whispers finally, and there’s a hint of sadness beneath the rasp. “He was a kid, Frank. Just a kid.”(WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS!)





	Unanswered

**Author's Note:**

> There was one scene from the Netflix's Punisher series that I found incredibly hard to swallow. After several days of chewing it over (seriously, guys, this effed me up GOOD) I finally came to the conclusion that there's somebody who'd be more disturbed by it than even ME! So I decided to get his take on it, and turned it into a ficlet. Does contain spoilers for Punisher Season 1

The look of complete and utter betrayal in Matt’s eyes has Frank feeling something he’s not felt in a very long time. It twinges in his stomach, grabbing hold momentarily before Frank tears away from Matt’s disbelieving stare. He shoves it back down where it came from as he quickly busies himself over a rifle, its guts laid out across a steel table. “Ya know, Red,” he begins, “Seems every time I’m graced with your presence it’s’ cause I’ve managed to somehow unequivocally piss you off.” 

Matt folds his arms, letting out a stiff puff of air beneath his breath that he thinks Frank doesn’t catch before perching his ass on the end of Frank’s work bench. “Karen told me what happened while I was…” Matt pauses, eyes fluttering as he searches for the word. “...gone.” 

“Lotta things happened while you were gone, Red.”

“Please stop calling me that.”

“Sure thing, Red.”

Matt lets out another indignant huff, tossing his head to the far side of the room. Whatever he’s got, it’s probably pretty good, because his shoulders are squared, jaw clenched like a man about to deal first blood. Matt’s most confident when he thinks he’s on some kind of moral high ground, which of course around Frank is pretty much always. “Lewis,” Matt whispers finally, and there’s a hint of sadness beneath the rasp. “He was a kid, Frank. Just a kid.” 

Frank slides a look over his shoulder at Matt again, one eyebrow quirked slightly. “A kid that blew up a few dozen people and held a gun to Karen’s head,” he barks back. “Ya know, I’m beginning to wonder where your priorities lie. Really. The way you talk, you’d think you were seekin’ justice for the bad guys.” 

“Good, bad,” Matt murmurs. He’s pushed himself off the counter, now, and is hovering closer to Frank like the goddamn angel of justice he is. “Does it matter? We could have fixed this, Frank! We could have--” 

“Some things you just can’t fix. And like you said, Red, you weren’t there. What happened back there, it needed to be done.” 

When Frank looks at him this time, Matt is biting the inside of his mouth, his jaw working back and forth like he’s chewing on his thoughts. This time his voice is a little quieter, more reserved. “She says you encouraged him, Frank...that you told him. Told him to do it. To pull that pin.”

“Yer goddamn right I did,” Frank growls. “It was gettin’ done regardless. Either he was comin’ outta that meat locker so I could plant a bullet in his brain, or he could take his destiny into his own hands. That’s what he did, Red. He took his own path. And he chose to go out like a soldier.” 

“Like a soldier?” Matt scoffs beneath his breath, shaking his head, incredulous. “That’s not what it was about though, was it Frank? It was revenge. It was about making him see things the way you see them--your own, jacked-up version of justice. There is always hope, Frank! Always! And you killed him.” 

Frank slams the cleaning rod down on the table and it lands with a resounding CRACK. “Fucking Christ, Red. It’s done. Okay? Ain’t no going back. And that sadistic piece of scum isn’t going to hurt anybody any more!”

“Yeah, and what about you, Frank?” Matt’s pulse is pounding in his chest, the blood surging so hard and fast that it’s thrumming against his carotid. “You continue to hurt, to kill. You’re no better--” 

Frank slams a hand down on his throat, cutting off his words as he spins him back against the metal table. A groan barely eeks out, Matt’s gaze steel even as his red frames clatter to the cement. “Watch it,” Frank rasps. He’s breathing down Matt’s neck, now, blocking his body with his legs and trapping him there against the metal work bench. “Don’t you say another word. I’m real tired of you comin’ in here and tellin me *my* business! In *my* workshop! This is *my* home, Red! MY TERF. You might be all high n mighty talkin’ shit when we’re out on a mission together, but not here, goddamn you. NOT here.” 

He shoves off of him, leaving Matt scrambling for air, that faint twinge of guilt returning to bite Frank where it counts. Matt stays slumped against the table, clutching his windpipe as he recovers, eyes just as firey and defiant as ever. 

Frank swallows. This is Red, his Red. And something deep inside yearns to make things right. “Look,” he starts again, taking a hesitant step towards him. “I had to save Karen. Her safety takes priority. I know you feel the same way.” 

Matt begrudgingly murmurs “yeah” as he rubs his throat.

“I mean, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. He killed people, Red. Innocent people. He woulda’ killed Karen, too. You know I couldn’t let that happen. What do you want?” 

“I want this to stop, Frank. I want you to stop. We can’t keep doing this! You can’t be out there, doing what you do, and then come home to me, and...you know...do what we do.” 

“Hey.” Frank closes the distance between them in a single stride, burying one hand behind Matt’s head, his fingers weaving into the thick, silky strands. Frank loves that his skin always smells freshly scrubbed, that mane of red hair fragrant with some expensive brand of shampoo. “I’m the same person, Red. You gotta get that through your skull. The same one puttin’ bullets in people, running from the authorities and taking out the bad guys….that’s the same one that always comes back to you. And what I do, that ain’t got nothing to do with you, okay? You don’t have to feel bad about that. You’re a part of me, Red. Just…” Frank flicks his tongue out over his chapped lips, wincing through the pain of a particularly bloody split--”....just know that. Yeah?” 

Matt’s long breathy sigh tells Frank he’s conceded, at least for now. Frank presses his forehead against Matt and Matt doesn’t fight back. His lips part, a slight moan escaping. “Just...just tell me one thing?” 

Frank pauses, his lips brushing against Matt’s waiting, open mouth, eyes closed. “Anything.” 

Matt’s hand flutters to Frank’s chest, pushing him slightly. “Are you glad he did it?”

Frank shakes his head as he steals that first indulgent, lingering kiss, their mouths coming together in a slow collide and parting hesitantly as Frank adds, “M’never glad, Red. That ain’t part of it. I don’t revel in taking out fellow soldiers, let alone ones as messed up as Lewis was. And let’s say you had it your way, okay, and the kid lived. He woulda’ had a lifetime of being locked up in some psych ward while they pumped him full of barbituates. That’s only if he wasn’t sentenced to life in the Big House as Bubba’s bride. Not a fun way to go, either way.” 

“I know,” Matt murmurs. The hand that was pushing Frank away now tugs absent-mindedly on his black tank, causing a happy jingle from the dog tags underneath. “And sometimes, I wish to god you weren’t right.” 

A possessive growl rumbles from deep within Frank’s chest as he flattens Matt against the table, hauling him up with two firm hand-holds on the seat of his dress pants, taking his fill of Matt’s plush open mouth. 

“Jesus, Red,” Frank rasps, pulling away from Matt’s kisses to nibble harshly on Matt’s earlobe, burying his scruff in the crook of Matt’s neck and revelling in the little yelp it produces. “Why you gotta continually piss me off all the goddamn time? Huh? Shit, the things you do to me…” He can feel himself growing rock-hard, trapped between the waiting warmth of Matt’s spread legs and the unforgiving stiffness of his tactical pants. 

“You better hope you didn’t crack my glasses,” Matt chimes with a half-smile as his slender fingers work their way down Frank’s back in expert scratches. 

“I’ll get you a new pair,” Frank mutters back, delivering a quick thrust to bring Matt’s thoughts back on track. 

Matt lets out a delighted yelp, rucking the tight material of the tank top up over Frank’s shoulders and pulling away just long enough to toss it to the floor. “You better.” 

“I’ll give you a hell a’lot more than that, too.” 

“Mmmh,” Matt sighs against Frank’s mouth, brushing the tip of his nose against the broken ridge of Frank’s. “Stop talking about it, then.” He reaches between their pressed bodies to flick open the buckle of Frank’s pants and Frank bucks impatiently.

“You got all the answers you wanted?,” Frank murmurs back as he begins helping Matt out of his dress shirt. 

Matt huffs out a laugh, throwing his distant gaze somewhere over Frank’s head. “Hardly. You are the question I’ll never have all the answers to.” 

“Goddamn right about that,” Frank moans as he dives in for another deep kiss.


End file.
